


Guys Night

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Repression, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17180843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: “Guys Night,” Lily scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Call this what it is. It’s a gay slumber party. If this was an actual Guys Night, I would fit in. You two are never gonna get laid like this. Just because neither of you ever got invited to slumber parties when you were kids doesn’t mean you have to make your own…”[Jack and Sammy have a weekly Guys Night. There's a lot of pining.]





	Guys Night

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh I've been working on this fic in my head for so long and now it finally exists in the world!! This is such slow burny slow burn. Almost nothing happens other than pining and longing for your best friend (in a super gay way). Hope you guys like it!!

Sammy’s raising a fist to knock on Jack’s door, but it swings open before he has the chance. Sammy opens his mouth to say something pithy about Jack being a mind reader, but he winces when he sees Lily on the other side, raising a judgmental eyebrow at him.

“Jack, your date’s here,” Lily says in her most obnoxious voice, giving Sammy an exaggerated wink. “Just kidding, you have to have sex for it to be a date!”

“Shut up,” Sammy mutters under his breath, deflating slightly.

“Make me,” Lily snipes back. She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and Sammy makes a retching noise in response. “Or you can always make Jack…”

“You’re being annoying tonight,” Jack’s face appears overtop Lily’s head, and his eyes soften apologetically when they meet Sammy’s. “Don’t you have a date of your own to get to?”

“You mean she isn’t joining us?” Sammy fakes a groan. He kicks one of Lily’s legs with his own as Lily scowls at him. “She fits in so well at Guys Night.”

“Guys Night,” Lily scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Call this what it is. It’s a gay slumber party. If this was an actual Guys Night, I _would_ fit in.”

Sammy furtively looks down Jack’s apartment building hallway, even though there’s no one there. His paranoia always gets the better of him.

Jack doesn’t seem to notice that in the same way Sammy does, too busying sticking his tongue out at Lily. “So you fit right in with hordes of straight dudes? Not a great look for you, Lily.”

Lily steps on his foot with a tight grimace, and Jack smiles winningly back at her. Sammy shoves Lily aside so she can shut the door behind him and away from any prying eyes or ears that he knows he’s imagining. That doesn’t make him feel any better, though.  

“You two are never gonna get laid like this,” Lily clucks her tongue as she laughs at them. Sammy shifts uncomfortably, wishing she’d leave, and Jack mouths _sorry_ overtop Lily’s head and as he lets out an annoyed breath through his nose. “Just because neither of you ever got invited to slumber parties when you were kids doesn’t mean you have to make your own…”

“Lily, you were on your way out the door,” Jack says with a pointed look.

“I can take a hint,” Lily waves her hand, but the smirk on her face doesn’t go away. “Have fun doing whatever you do here. Drinking brightly colored alcohol, watching romcoms, gossiping about boys…”

“All things you hate,” Jack reminds her. “You can leave at _any_ point.”

“And miss all the fun?” Lily laughs. “Trust me, I’m already on my way, and unlike the two of you, _I’m_ going to have sex tonight.”

 “Congratulations, I’m sure it will be astoundingly mediocre,” Sammy dovetails her, finally seeing an opening to say something rude and snarky back. Lily barely looks at him as she flips him off.

“Have a good night,” Lily says, her voice a little too sing-song-like to be genuine. She hugs Jack goodbye with as little actual physical touching as possible, and then she’s gone.

“Sorry,” Jack says as he closes the door behind Lily, shaking his head. “I’m still not sure _why_ she came over, I think maybe just to be bothersome. Or possibly for the sole purpose of making fun of us when you got here. She lives for those moments. Anyway, hi.”

Jack leans into hug Sammy and Sammy pointedly doesn’t think about how easily he relaxes into it. Jack isn’t usually tactile, and Sammy even less so, but Guys Night has a little different rules than any other night of the week.

For one, they’re alone. For another, there’s no Lily, at least not anymore. And as much as Lily might tease them, there’s probably some luridly pink alcohol in Jack’s kitchen and they’re going to make something that tastes way, way better than disgusting watered down brown liquor.

“Who’s Lily’s date?” Sammy asks when Jack lets go. Jack shrugs.

“Someone from her gym? I really don’t know, she isn’t the most detail-oriented,” Jack says. “But that’s a topic for tomorrow.”

That’s a general rule of Guys Night – no talk about work, radio, Lily, or any other the subjects that are safe ground for public places. Guys Night is contained to Jack’s apartment, just the two of them, with things just the two of them can talk about in private together.

Which basically makes it, as Lily tends to call it snidely and under her breath and with far too much superiority, their weekly gay slumber party.

 Whatever. Lily isn’t here right now so Sammy can’t be made uncomfortable by her.

“Good point,” Sammy tells Jack, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it haphazardly near Jack’s door. “What are we watching tonight?”

“Clueless,” Jack says as he crosses the room, holding up a DVD, and Sammy laughs at the grin on his face. “Stole it from Lily’s when we were there last weekend. Surprised she even had it.”

“DVD thief,” Sammy says as he flops down on the couch, awkwardness slowly seeping away now that Lily’s not here to make shitty insinuations about Sammy and Jack’s private lives.

They’re friends. Best friends. Broadcast partners. And they both happen to be gay and that’s why they’re so close and confide in each other about everything because no one else really understands them except each other, _oh my God,_ _shut up, Lily, we’re not together and never will be, please God shut up before Jack realizes –_

“She won’t notice,” Jack says, and falls backwards onto the couch as well, into Sammy’s personal space. They elbow each other and laugh, Jack’s eyes crinkling around the edges in the way Sammy always notices. “Should I order pizza? We have to order something, there’s nothing in my kitchen.”

“I hope there’s wine in your kitchen,” Sammy retorts and Jack just grins at him.

“Dude, obviously,” Jacks says. “I meant to go _with_ the wine.”

“Yeah, pizza’s good,” Sammy says, leaning out of Jack’s space and into the couch cushions, already far more comfortable here than he is anywhere else. “Can we get –?”

“We’re not getting Hawaiian,” Jack purposefully leans in dig his elbow into Sammy’s stomach and Sammy laughs as he tries to shove Jack away. Jack easily ducks Sammy’s attempt to grab at him, agile as he is. “Sausage and pepperoni or supreme are your choices.”

“Supreme,” Sammy says and Jack makes a half-offended, half-fond noise.

“I guess I’ll just pick the mushrooms off,” Jack says, and reaches around Sammy to grab the phone.

While Jack’s ordering, Sammy gets the DVD set up. Even though Jack is generally much better at technology, Sammy’s practiced enough with this that he doesn’t get confused and whine at Jack to help him. That’s what Sammy does every day at work.

“Hey, don’t start it yet, I have something to tell you,” Jack says when he gets off the phone. He’s brought two glasses of something that is close enough to pink for Lily to mock them if she was here, but she isn’t, so take that, Lily.

“Yeah?” Sammy says, taking one the glasses from Jack and taking a sip, recognizing it as the cheap Moscato that Jack buys as part of a long-running inside joke.

“So you know Mason? That guy that I’ve been…you know?” Jack makes a signal with his hand that Sammy assumes to mean _fucking,_ especially paired with the slight pink stain of Jack’s cheeks.

“I’m aware,” Sammy teases, and pulls Jack onto the couch next to him. “What about him? Are you guys still –”

“I think we have a _date_ ,” Jack says, and makes a face somewhere between a beaming grin and a wince. “I mean, I said something about wanting to do – you know, something other than get drunk and play video games.”

“And fuck,” Sammy fills in helpfully and Jack flicks his forehead.

“Obviously that,” Jack rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond look on his face that never fails to make Sammy feel accomplished. “But he said he wanted to see that new horror movie, and I think we’re gonna go together?”

“Wow,” Sammy says, and tries to maintain the smile on his face. “And you love horror movies. That’d be a massive turn off for me, but…”

“Yeah, I think we have a lot in common,” Jack laughs, and Sammy’s not sure if the soft look on Jack’s face is directed at him or the idea of this guy. “He said something – I don’t know, it made it sound like he wants to be like….my boyfriend.”

“You haven’t had one of those in a while,” Sammy says, keeping his voice even and cheerful, which requires some thought but really isn’t too much of an effort. Jack dates more than Sammy, but he doesn’t date a lot, and he deserves to have someone like that in his life.

“I haven’t,” Jack nods, sighing through his nose. When he looks over at Sammy, it’s with bright eyes. “I. I really like him, though, it won’t just be settling like it was last time. I think – I don’t know, it could be serious? If not now then someday? I mean, Mason and I can actually talk about things.”

“That’s great,” Sammy says, all genuineness, and leans over to put an arm around Jack without thinking about it, and Jack doesn’t quite lean into him, still blushing. “Don’t look so embarrassed! It’s exciting! Are you gonna tell Lily?”

Jack wrinkles up his nose. “God no. Not until I know if it’s legit or not. There’s no need to bring that relentless mockery into my life if I can help it.”

“Fair point,” Sammy says, and doesn’t think about the way Jack fully leans into his shoulder now. “Still, it’s in our best friend pact that you have to tell me everything, so…”

“We didn’t make a blood oath,” Jack digs his elbow into Sammy’s side, but he’s laughing. “But obviously I’ll tell you. You’re the only person I’d _want_ to tell.”

Also the only person he _can_ tell, the back of Sammy’s mind uncomfortably reminds him.

“Good, ‘cause I want to hear it,” Sammy says, almost entirely telling the truth. Whatever part of him is lying is satisfied by Jack beaming at him like that.

“Well, you need to go on a date too so I can hear about it,” Jack says and it’s the only thing that’s happened that really makes Sammy aware of the pit of growing dread in his stomach. “It’s been ages since you told me about anybody. I could see if Mason knows anybody who’s single…”

“Stop, stop,” Sammy laughs at Jack wiggling his eyebrows at him, preoccupying with shoving Jack away so as not to analyze how he’s feeling right now. “I’m capable of finding someone for myself.”

He isn’t. Not really. Sammy isn’t big on that thing called _putting himself out there_. Sammy can put one toe out of the closet, just enough to go to a gay club or talk to someone at a party, and it’s stressful enough that he spends the next month trying to recover and stop hyperventilating.

Then a month turns to two months turns to six months turns to three years, and the most Sammy’s had is a few mediocre hook-ups.

 _Three years ago, you met Jack_ , a very annoying and Lily-like voice in Sammy’s head reminds him and Sammy tries to crush it like an aluminum can with his mind. 

“Just let me know,” Jack says. “I could ask around.”

“Next week,” Sammy tells him without quite realizing he’s saying it, his mouth far ahead of his brain at this point. Jack raises a disbelieving eyebrow at him, and fuck it, Sammy has to keep talking. “Next week when I come over, I’ll have a guy to tell you about.”

“Ooh,” Jack says, leaning in conspiratorially, eyes bright blue. “Intrigue.”

“Shut up,” Sammy blushes. “I’ll chicken out if you –”

“I’m not teasing!” Jack grins, ruffling Sammy’s hair so quickly it’s like it Sammy imagined it. “I’m happy. You gonna go to a club? The one just outside of –”

“Yeah, probably that one,” Sammy cuts him off before he can continue. There’s only one club within decent driving distance that’s still far enough away for Sammy to never see anyone he’d recognize. More to the point, anyone who’d recognize him. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Can I come, or will I throw you off your game?” Jack nudges Sammy with his elbow and Sammy makes a face at him.

“No one will want to sleep with _m_ e if you’re there, looking like…” Sammy makes a motion that makes Jack laugh and shove him over hard enough to topple him. He leans back upward, kicking at Jack lightly.

“Well, good luck,” Jack says, bright and genuine. “I can’t wait to hear about it.”

Sammy makes them start the movie after that, and even though they talk through half of it, they don’t revisit the topic. Still, Sammy resolves to himself as he falls asleep on the couch that night, Jack already leaning the opposite way and snoring, their legs tangled up, that he’ll have something good to tell Jack next week.

It’s hard to hear Jack talk about Mason, and Sammy knows perfectly well why that is. Still, he thinks it’ll get easier if he has a story or two of his own. Even if it is just another mediocre hook-up, it’ll be something.

* * *

 

Jack mutters a few questions to Sammy at work and when they’re hanging out that week, either with Lily or without, about if he’d gone to the club that weekend. Sammy had told him he was breaking the rules, and Jack pouted at him but Sammy held firm.

There were certain things they only talked about at Guys Night – namely, guys. For one thing, no one knew they were gay but Lily, and neither of them wanted anyone else to find out. They tried not to talk about anything personal at work other than light banter. For another, Sammy had no interest in sharing with Lily anyone he was or was not sleeping with, because she would just make fun of him, and make some kind of insinuation about Jack that would hurt more than Sammy could let on to her.

So he makes Jack wait until Friday night. By the time he gets to Jack’s apartment, Jack practically jumps on top of him when he opens the door.

“Alright, you motherfucker, I better get _lots_ of details to make up for this waiting game,” Jack says as he hugs Sammy, and Sammy laughs into Jack’s shoulder, enjoying Jack’s enthusiasm if nothing else.

“Wait ‘til I shut the door first,” Sammy grumbles, but he’s smiling when he closes the door behind him and tosses his jacket on the ground. “Alcohol?”

“Alcohol is for people who tell their friends if they got laid last weekend,” Jack informs him and makes a kissy face. Sammy sticks his tongue out in response.

“…kind of?” Sammy says when Jack looks at him expectantly.

“Kind of is a fake answer,” Jack tells him. “Alright, come on. I got groceries today so we’re making tacos. And maybe I’ll let you have a drink _while_ you’re sharing.”

“Sounds good,” Sammy follows him into the kitchen. Jack gets a pan out along with a package of ground beef, and Sammy preoccupies himself with watching Jack’s hands for a few seconds until Jack clears his throat and Sammy bites his lip almost guiltily.

“So?”

“So,” Sammy allows, trying his best to smile, “I _did_ go out on Saturday. Danced a bit. Drank a lot.”

“You’re evil,” Jack shakes his head, but he’s giggling under his breath, Sammy can tell. “Get to the good part!”

“I ran into Logan,” Sammy says, and that makes Jack look up, curiosity and a little suspicion in his face.

“That dick boyfriend you had when we first met?”  Jack asks.

“He’s not that bad, he’s just…you know, kind of annoying,” Sammy says, and Jack scoffs and is presumably about to make a comment about just how annoying Logan was, but Sammy cuts him off. “Anyway, we talked a bit, caught up, but he was there with a big group of friends, and one of them….uh, seemed to like me.”

“Putting aside his terrible choice in friends, was he cool?” Jack asks, and Sammy purposefully doesn’t read into the grin on Jack’s face. That grin should be there. Sammy wants Jack to be happy for him, whatever the case, but a small part of Sammy wishes Jack was….not sad, not angry, certainly not jealous, but something _else_.

“I mean, we didn’t talk…much,” Sammy says, trying not to blush. “We danced for a long time though, and…uh….”

“You gave it the old college try and blew him in the bathroom?” Jack guesses from behind his hand as he laughs and Sammy blushes.

“Well, he blew me too, so like…equality,” Sammy says and Jack laughs out loud at that. Sammy laughs along with him, able to joke about things like this after so long of finding everything about talking about sex mortifying. For one thing, he never really had anyone to talk to about it other than the people he was having sex with, and none of them had been excellent conversationalists.

Jack’s the first person that Sammy’s ever told, albeit behind the hands over his eyes, that he likes to be roughed up during sex that he didn’t immediately have sex with afterwards, and the only person full stop who hadn’t laughed at him for it.

In turn, Jack’s told Sammy about his hang-ups with sex and how there are a lot of things he just won’t do if he’s not in a real relationship, and maybe that’s where that longing feeling in Sammy’s chest began, thinking about Jack adjacent to a _real relationship._

Today it’s easy to laugh together, with Jack faux-threatening to throw the ground beef he’s frying in Sammy’s direction and Sammy ducking away from him.

“So was this like, a one off thing, or did you guys exchange numbers?” Jack asks and Sammy reaches into his pocket, anticipating the question.

He shows Jack the napkin from the club that night, with the smudged ink of _Seth_ followed by a string of digits. Jack makes a delighted noise as he takes the napkin from Sammy.

“Have you been carrying it with you all this time like a Jane Austen heroine?” Jack puts a hand over his heart and pretends to swoon and Sammy steals the napkin back from him.

“No, jackass, I put his number in my phone when I got home,” Sammy says. “I saved the napkin to show _you_.”

Sammy’s heartrate quickens, thinking he’s inadvertently shown too much of where his priorities here lie, but thankfully Jack doesn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with another joke about framing the napkin.

“Did you at least call him?” Jack asks when he’s done teasing, and he seems to get the answer from the way Sammy looks at the ground. “Dude! The point in getting a number is to use it!”

“Leave me alone,” Sammy grumbles. “It’s been a busy week! I mean, we had a _celebrity_ on 1090 this week, so…”

“The Miss Florida beauty pageant queen is barely a celebrity,” Jack informs him, “and no excuse for not calling him. Come on, do it now!”

“Then he’ll just assume I want to hook up tonight,” Sammy swats at Jack, “and we won’t get to eat tacos and watch Lost. I’ll call him tomorrow!”

“Promise?” Jack asks, and Sammy has to smile at the look on his face, like he’s proud.

“Promise,” Sammy says. “Anyway, how’d _your_ date go?”

“Not until tomorrow,” Jack says, and his smile gets a nervous quality to it that makes Sammy take a step closer. “Guess we’ll both have a fun night.”

“Presumptuous,” Sammy rolls his eyes but keeps smiling. “It’ll be great. Don’t even worry about it.”

“I guess I’m just…” Jack sighs, not making eye contact. “I keep thinking about how it’s the movie theater we always go to, and how we’ve seen people from work there before. How would I explain –?”

“You just say you’re out with a high school friend if they ask, which they won’t,” Sammy says, the lie coming to him easily. He’s used it before, despite the fact that he has no friends from high school. “It’ll be fine, Jack. You’ll have fun, and no one will think anything of it. Stop worrying so much.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” Jack says, and flips off the stovetop burner he’s been using for the beef. “Let’s just eat tacos and watch Lost so I’m too distracted to be paranoid.”

Sammy can’t relate, never having been too distracted to stop being paranoid even once in his entire life, but there’s no reason for Jack to be. Jack fits in better than Sammy ever did, and Sammy tries to communicate that without words by nudging Jack’s ribs with his elbow as Jack gets taco shells out of the cupboard.

He makes Jack laugh eventually, and that’s all it really takes to get them back to the way they usually are, talking and laughing and bitching about the latest developments at work and speculating about whoever Lily’s dating that she’s not telling them about.

It’s far easier than the next night, when Sammy stammers his way through a phone conversation, gets this extremely drunk, and hooks up with Seth in his apartment this time.

Waking up on Jack’s couch makes Sammy’s back hurt, but his body’s getting used to it, especially when his feet are tangled with Jack’s all through the night. Sammy feels happy and warm like he’s where he’s supposed to be.

Waking up the morning after hooking up with Seth, Sammy’s viciously hungover and feeling like someone ran him over with a truck. He’s not sure whether he regrets it or not.

* * *

 

“It felt like all the first date clichés that I’d never really _gotten_ before,” Jack explains to Sammy, his voice verging on giddy as their feet tangle up. House is playing on the TV, but neither of them is really paying it too much attention. “We brushed hands when we reached for the popcorn at the same time, played footsie, held hands when it seemed like no one was looking…”

“Don’t tell me, you threw caution to the wind and made out in the theater,” Sammy teases, maneuvering his foot to nudge the inside of Jack’s knee. Jack laughs like it tickles, kicking Sammy’s foot away.

“Fat chance,” Jack rolls his eyes. “No, but like…it was really good. And fun. And I drove him home, and we kissed goodbye in the car. I mean, obviously he invited me up afterwards, but it felt a lot more meaningful than any other time.”

“Sap,” Sammy says, but he doesn’t make fun. Jack’s never made fun of Sammy’s various neuroses and things he’s let spill, so Sammy will never make fun of Jack’s romantic nature. Sammy likes that about him, anyway, he wishes he were more like Jack when it came to guys. Especially this past week.

Jack had played the same cards Sammy had and refused to spill information during the work week, which led to various fake fights that had Lily groaning at both of them, but Sammy obviously couldn’t be too mad. Secrets are half the fun, and it makes Friday nights all the more special.

It hadn’t stopped the longing feeling in Sammy’s chest, but he’d seen Jack messaging with Mason this week – Jack had even let his name slip in conversation a few times, blushing furiously every time it happened. It had only been around Sammy and Lily, so it wasn’t like they needed to worry about it. So Sammy had known the date had at least gone decently.

“Did you stay all night? Wake up there in the morning?” Sammy asks and Jack nods, smiling at the ground. That’s something Jack’s a big proponent of, staying the night. “Good.”

“What about you? Did you call that Seth guy?” Jack asks, and Sammy turns and looks at the argument House and Wilson are having on the TV set, thinking about how he wants to answer.

Well, fuck it, Sammy wanted a hook up to have something to talk to Jack about, and goddammit, he was gonna talk to Jack about it.

“I think I really like him,” Sammy says like it’s an admission, letting himself blush for good measure, and Jack grins at him.

“Really?” Jack says, leaning closer. “You never like _anybody_. What is it about this guy?”

“He’s….nice,” Sammy says, immediately mentally berating himself for what a stupid adjective that is. “I mean, we’ve only hooked up a couple of times, but I have fun with him. He makes me laugh.”

Jack’s smile is so sweet that Sammy doesn’t even feel guilty at stretching the truth. He really doesn’t know how he feels about Seth – he’s fine, the sex is good, Sammy’s been drunk for most of it, but they really haven’t had a real conversation.

“That’s great,” Jack says, and he reaches over to squeeze Sammy’s wrist. “I’d feel bad about being so happy with everything that’s happening with Mason if you didn’t have anybody. I’m really glad you put yourself out there for a change.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Sammy says, trying not to enjoy the feeling of Jack’s hand on his. “I get it, you’re head over heels for Mason and want to have his babies…”

“Ew,” Jack reaches behind him to grab a pillow and hit Sammy with it, making him laugh. “Gross.”

“What’s so great about Mason, anyway?” Sammy asks before he can stop himself, but at least his tone hadn’t been nearly as petulant as he felt. “I mean, you date… _often_ isn’t the right word, but more than me! What’s special about him?”

Jack gets a contemplative look on his face, and this time he’s the one watching House and Wilson bicker over a diagnosis with a clouded look in his eye. It only lasts a few seconds before he looks down slightly, still not at Sammy.

“He likes listening to me talk,” Jack says with a shrug. “I mean, you know me, I can go on for hours about shit that nobody really cares about. But he always listens. I mean, I think I went on an hour long rant about Mothman a couple weeks ago, and he just listened. He didn’t make fun of me, didn’t try to change the subject. Just listened.”

“Oh,” Sammy says, suddenly preoccupied with the television as well, feeling a hot blush creep up. Any slight jealousy Sammy’s feeling is replaced by flooding guilt.

“That’s not a knock against you or Lily,” Jack says suddenly, as if he’s just realized. “I’m not comparing him to you two, more so to the other guys I’ve been with but – I mean, it could’ve sounded like that. You and Lily are great for lots of reasons – I mean, you’re my best friend and Lily’s….obnoxious, but I love her. You’re obnoxious and I love you, for that matter.”

“Thanks,” Sammy says, not looking at Jack, and he hears Jack sigh.

Sammy doesn’t respond until he feels Jack sling an arm around his shoulder and pull him toward him in a headlock. Sammy groans and squirms to get out of it, but Jack plays rugby every Saturday and Sammy’s never played an organized sport in his life and it shows.

“Let go,” Sammy says, and Jack just pulls him closer.

“Don’t be melancholy,” Jack says, finally releasing him. Sammy glares over at him, pointedly massaging his neck and Jack just beams at him, all white teeth and blue eyes. It’s not long before he’s got Sammy smiling back. “You and Lily are always gonna be the most important people in my life, no matter how you feel about Mothman.”

“Your one true love?” Sammy asks and Jack snorts.

“Something like that,” Jack admits and Sammy smiles. Jack gets a contemplative look again, and gestures at the TV. “If I’m House, I need someone to tell me to shut the fuck up every once in a while, and that’s where you and Lily come in. You guys can decrease the frequency of that at _any_ point…”

“You’re way too nice to be House,” Sammy tells Jack, who just laughs at him, but the tension between them dissipates almost immediately. “If anything, Lily’s House. All caught up in her own genius.”

“Point taken,” Jack admits. “God, imagine Lily with an entire hospital to bend to her will instead of just us and whoever calls into the station.”

Jack starts to shift the subject and Sammy lets him, though he wishes he could go back and tell Jack he could talk to Sammy about anything, anytime, regardless of how weird or stupid. But the conversation has moved on, and House is doing something obnoxious this episode that they fixate on as a contrast to Lily’s new insistence that Sammy only be allotted a maximum word count each day in studio.

It’s fun, and it’s fine, and Sammy tries to relax.

* * *

 

Sammy laughs out loud when he opens Jack’s fridge.

“Jack, get back in here! I need to judge you!” Sammy yells over his shoulder, his lethargy suddenly turning to energetic glee. He’d been feeling down until he got to Jack’s, which never fails to make him feel at least a little better, but this makes his week.

“What?” Jack asks as he comes back into the living room from the hall, raising a challenging eyebrow at Sammy, though his expression remains primarily confused. Sammy jerks his head to the fridge and Jack sighs, coming closer with a long-suffering but fond expression on his face. “Yes?”

“You have a six pack of Coronas in your fridge,” Sammy takes great joy in telling him. He points inside to the second shelf where there’s a half-empty six pack. Jack’s expression turns to an embarrassed blush and Sammy beams at him.

“Don’t mock me, you know that high school buddy of mine was in town on Sunday,” Jack says and Sammy rolls his eyes. He and Lily had to get drinks alone Sunday night because neither of them wanted to be exposed to Jack’s high school athlete friends. “I bought the most generic alcohol possible. I don’t break out the Barefoot Moscato for just anybody, you know.”

He pokes Sammy’s side and Sammy tries not to giggle.

“You’re so straight,” Sammy tells him and Jack makes a face. “Don’t you know Coronas are banned at the slumber party?”

“Are we embracing that title now?” Jack asks with a smirk and Sammy nudges Jack’s hip with his own.

“Don’t tell Lily,” Sammy says. “Besides, saying that Coronas are banned from _Guys Night_ just makes eyebrows raise. Everyone knows Coronas are a staple of Guys Nights everywhere.”

“We’re just superior,” Jack says. “So….did you bring me out here just to mock them or are we going to drink them?”

“You’d have to kill me first, I drink enough of those when we’re out with Lily and the guys from work,” Sammy says. “I don’t need that shit here. This is a safe place, Jack, a place I should _not_ have to see straight guy beer.”

“Barefoot Moscato it is,” Jack laughs.

* * *

 

Sammy’s sleepy and half-drunk by the time the credits for Maurice roll. Maurice is one of Jack’s favorite movies – Sammy thinks he’s seen it half a dozen times now, but it doesn’t really lose any of its sparkle, especially not for Jack.

“Good movie,” Sammy says, a little teasingly but mostly genuinely, as he leans against Jack’s shoulder. He’s tired, it’s late, he’s drunk, and he’s not analyzing any of that.

“I love this movie,” Jack says like Sammy doesn’t know that already, but his voice slurs enough that Sammy registers that Jack’s tipsy, too. “I love happy endings.”

“S’sweet,” Sammy says, thinking that there’s a wistful tone to Jack’s voice.

“It’s like, the only happy gay movie,” Jack says and Sammy makes a noise in response. “The rest of them are all about AIDs.”

“It’s a good movie,” Sammy says, and then without quite realizing he’s saying it, “but happy endings aren’t realistic. Specially not for…for….you know. People like us.”

Jack shifts, and Sammy finds himself burrowing in further to Jack’s side entirely by accident.

“I think they could be,” Jack says, too quiet. “Not always, but – but sometimes.”

“I might just be a cynic,” Sammy says, knowing that while that’s certainly true, he doesn’t have a lot of faith in the universe constructing a happy ending for him in any way, romantic or otherwise. He doesn’t have any misconceptions about how the world works.

“You’re definitely a cynic,” Jack laughs. “You’ll have to get a happy ending of your own before you believe in anyone else’s.”

“It’ll be a long wait,” Sammy says, and though he laughs, he doesn’t feel light. “I’ll believe in them if _you_ get a happy ending, how about that?”

“Well if I have one, then you get one too, I’m bringing you along,” Jack tells him and Sammy’s glad that his head is tilted down so Jack can’t see whatever his face is doing right now.  

“You think you’ll get one with – what’s his name? Mason?” Sammy says, still drowsy and existing in between reality and dream, not entirely sure what he’s saying or why he thinks it’s a good idea to say it. All he knows is that his heart is suddenly pounding.

Jack’s deadly silent, which doesn’t help. When he finally speaks, it’s slow and purposeful.

“I…don’t know,” Jack says, and his arm around Sammy’s shoulder gets tenser. His voice has an odd, faraway quality to it that Sammy can’t read. “I – I think that he thinks I’m not taking the relationship seriously because I’m not out. So he’s not taking it seriously either.”

Sammy makes a confused noise. “What? You take everything seriously.”

He feels as well as hears Jack chuckle, Sammy’s close enough to Jack’s chest. “That’s what I told him. But he told me if I was too immature to be out, then I’m too immature for him to commit to. He’s still seeing other people. And we still have fun, but I just wish – I wish he’d take me seriously.”

“That’s dumb,” Sammy murmurs, his filter apparently not present right now. “You’re like, the most mature person ever.”

“I don’t have tough competition with you and Lily,” Jack laughs, but Sammy can hear the pain running underneath it.

“You’re committed enough, don’t listen to him,” Sammy says. “He knows you work in radio, right? That – that you’d probably get fired, if…”

Jack makes a noise of assent. “Yeah. He knows. He doesn’t particularly understand.”

“He’s dumb,” Sammy says again, with his limited drunk vocabulary. “You’re – the best, Jack. The best.”

“You’re pretty great too, you know,” Sammy thinks he hears Jack saying, but he’s pretty sure he’s already fallen asleep y that point.

* * *

 

“You seem really tired,” Jack tells Sammy.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Sammy cracks an eye open from where he practically collapsed on Jack’s couch the second he got through the door. “Takeout food tonight, alright?”

“What do you want?” Jack asks, and Sammy shrugs.

He lets Jack order something that sounds like Indian food and tries not to fall asleep at fucking six in the evening on the only night of the week he enjoys.

He feels Jack come sit next to him, since Jack literally lifts Sammy’s feet up to make room for himself on the couch, followed by the feeling of Jack untying his shoes and pulling them off. Huh. Sammy hadn’t realized that he’d forgotten to take those off. Is he still wearing his jacket?

“You were scattered at work today, too,” Jack says quietly after Sammy hears the sound of his shoes being thrown onto the floor over near the door. “Is everything alright?”

“Peachy keen,” Sammy says, purposefully keeping his eyes closed so as not to look at Jack’s concerned eyes. “Wine?”

“After you talk,” Jack says. “Lily said you told her you were out late last night. Was it…with Seth?”

“Got it in one,” Sammy mutters and can almost feel Jack’s frown piercing him even though he’s screwing his eyes shut now.

“Okay,” Jack says slowly. “You don’t sound….how should I put this, um, _overjoyed_ about that.”

“Just tired,” Sammy whispers, trying not to let any emotion seep into his voice, because if he wavers, if he even looks Jack in the eye, he’ll probably break. “Headache.”

“Was it – I mean, like, just a hook up, or…?”

Sammy swallows. “Um. I don’t know. We did some – some stuff. And then we hooked up.”

“What sort of stuff?”

Sammy doesn’t read into the concern in Jack’s voice. “You know, stuff. Went to a club. I blew him in the bathroom. You know. Like I do.”

Sammy feels Jack’s hand on his ankle, a little cold, not very tight, but it still chokes him up just a bit, and he lets out an unsteady breath.

“Do you like him?” Jack asks, and Sammy finally makes himself open his eyes and sit up.

Jack’s too nice to look at, Sammy thinks, with his concerned wide eyes, his mouth a tight and worried frown, and his hands all too soft against Sammy’s foot. It’s really not fair, Jack looking like that.

“Jack,” Sammy says, trying his best to smile. “I _really_ like him.”

He doesn’t, but it’s worth it to see Jack’s tentative smile in response.

“Really?” Jack asks and Sammy nods. “It’s been awhile since you liked someone.”

“Yeah, it has,” Sammy says. “But I like him. So – don’t worry, alright? I really am just tired and hungover from being out late.”

“Alright, I believe you,” Jack says, and he lets go of Sammy’s ankle. Sammy misses the contact almost instantly, even though his feet are still in Jack’s lap. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“I want to talk about the new episode of Lost and whatever’s going on with you and Mason,” Sammy says, a smile coming to him easily. “C’mon, it’s a slumber party. You’re bringing down the mood with your concern.”

“Whatever,” Jack pushes Sammy’s legs so they knock together. “But we’re not drinking anything tonight, alright? It’s water or nothing with dinner. Or milk. I do have milk.”

“You know, I’m a fan of milk,” Sammy says and Jack rolls his eyes, fond and exasperated.

“You’d tell me if something was the matter?” Jack asks and he stands up, presumably to go and get Sammy a glass of milk.

“Of course,” Sammy says and Jack nods and smiles, trusting and not at all suspicious, before he heads into the kitchen.

Sammy falls back onto the couch, squeezing his eyes closed again.

It’s nothing to be concerned about, Sammy rationalizes with himself. Not really. Any hook-up, friends with benefits, or boyfriend – whichever the fuck Seth is – is never going to be _good._

Sammy’s never going to like anyone as much as he likes Jack, and the sooner he accepts that, the sooner he can learn to embrace the mediocrity.

* * *

 

 “Oh my God, that’s spicy!” Sammy reaches for the water as he splutters, Jack laughing at him from across the kitchen counter. Sammy gulps down a full glass before turning to Jack with a betrayed expression. “Why would you knowingly poison me like that?”

“Because you’re such a wimp,” Jack tells him, his eyes scrunching up around the sides as he laughs. “God, you’d think you’d never tasted salsa before.”

“Not that salsa,” Sammy points at the bowl that Jack’s been adding ingredients to for the past hour while Sammy’s watched, with a glass of wine and a sardonic comment or two. “That’s horrible!”

“I’m insulted,” Jack says, looking anything but. He’s wearing his glasses instead of his contacts for a change, and Sammy always enjoys seeing those. They make Jack look smarter, and Jack’s already the smartest person Sammy knows. “I’m making you dinner, I don’t deserve these insults!”

“I’m helping,” Sammy reminds him. “I’m like a – what’s it called – you know, the helper person.”

“Astounding vocabulary, and you have an English degree?” Jack teases and Sammy sticks his tongue out in response.

“A sous chef,” Sammy says. “And yes I do have an English degree, it’s a certificate on my wall and everything, so you can fuck off whenever you feel like it.”

“Alright, sous chef, I’ll let you do the eggs, then,” Jack says. “Recipe’s on the counter.”

“You’re not gonna help me?” Sammy gives Jack a fake pouting expression and Jack just shakes his head with a groan.

“You just said that _you_ were the helper person!”

Sammy laughs at Jack’s indignation as he stands and heads over to the stovetop, pulling out a pan from one of Jack’s cupboards as he does. Sammy’s not great in the kitchen, but a simple egg bake recipe he can do no problem.

Jack leans over his shoulder, presumably to say something equally as snarky to Sammy’s comments through the evening, but his phone rings before he can.

Sammy turns around to see Jack squinting at the caller ID with a slight frown and Sammy gives him a questioning look.

“It’s Mason,” Jack says to Sammy. “He knows I’m busy on Fridays – maybe it’s important? Give me one second.”

Sammy tries not to feel too disappointed, raging, or blindly jealous when Jack picks up the phone with a “Hey babe, what’s going on?”

Sammy purposefully doesn’t listen as Jack wanders from the kitchen, instead humming an aggressively cheerful song that’s been everywhere on the radio these days that the  DJs that come on after their show play constantly, so Sammy’s always listening on his commute. He focuses pointedly on the song, the egg bake, and not whatever Jack’s saying for the next five minutes.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Jack says when he comes back into the room and Sammy ceases humming immediately. “I think he just forgot it was a Friday and I’m always hanging out with you on Fridays. I told him I’d talk to him tomorrow.”

“Little clingy for a guy who doesn’t want to be exclusive,” Sammy says before he can help himself, and then winces over at Jack, who’s frowning. “Sorry. Too much?”

“No,” Jack says, grimacing slightly but his eyes are warm on Sammy’s. “Pretty much right on the mark. I can never fucking read him. One minute, I’m an immature coward in a rotating line of guys he’s sleeping with and and the next I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And I never really know which it’s going to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Sammy tells him, thinking of how there’s really only one version of Seth, and it’s a mostly unpleasant one. Still, he shoves that aside to focus on Jack’s issues for now. “That’s shitty of him.”

“I like him,” Jack shrugs, crossing the kitchen to come lean against the counter next to the stovetop, where it’s easy for them to talk and Sammy to bake. “That’s the most annoying part – I really like him and want to make it work.”

“If anyone can do it, it’ll be you,” Sammy tells him in all honesty. Jack smiles, his bright eyes meeting Sammy’s for a moment before he looks down at the ground.

“I’d really like for you to meet him,” Jack says. “I mean – he’s heard all about you. And you’ve obviously heard all about him.”

“Oh, cool,” Sammy says, stifling down any emotion that isn’t happiness. It’s a good thing, it really is. Sammy’s important enough to meet Jack’s boyfriend.

Jack’s boyfriend is important enough to meet Sammy.

“Do you want to invite him to come next week, or…?” Sammy asks. Jack squints at him, confused for a moment until he laughs.

“Oh, dude, I didn’t mean to _this_ ,” Jack gestures vaguely at his apartment. “This is our time. I meant like, for drinks with us and Lily after work or something like that. Casual, you know?”

Sammy feels a sweep of relief. “Oh – yeah, that’s way better. Sorry, I just thought –”

“It’s sweet,” Jack interrupts, “that you’d even consider letting him come to Guys Night. And I really appreciate the sentiment of it. But I don’t want anyone interrupting my night with you. This is like – the only time where I feel like I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not. Where everything’s just…easy. I’m not letting anyone infringe on that, no matter how much I like them.”

“I mean, we let Lily infringe sometimes,” Sammy points out and Jack snorts.

“She’s my sister, I have a legal obligation,” Jack says. “But even she rarely gets an invite. She brings straight guy beer and makes us watch action movies. Which as we know –”

“Are banned,” Sammy finishes helpfully, chuckling at their mutual understanding that Sammy can’t suggest any action movies and in return, Jack can’t force him into watching any horror movies.

“So what about your boyfriend?” Jack asks after a few moments of silence. “Is he enough of a fixture that I get to meet him someday?”

Sammy’s stomach lurches uncomfortably and tries to imagine any way that can go that isn’t a fucking disaster trainwreck that ends up with someone in the hospital. “Um. Maybe someday. Not yet, I don’t think.”

“Is he actually your boyfriend, or…?” Jack asks and Sammy finds it hard to swallow.

“He certainly thinks so,” Sammy says and Jack frowns at him. “I’m a little on the fence about it. But you know me and my commitment issues…”

Jack pats Sammy’s elbow lightly. “Well if it’s just that, don’t worry too much. If it’s meant to work out, it will.”

“You believe in fate, too? Not just cryptids?” Sammy teases, Jack kicks him, and the subject is mercifully dropped.

* * *

 

“If there’s one thing this movie got right, it’s that high school is such a zoo,” Jack says midway through Mean Girls, which neither of them have ever seen before but all of the girls that they work with are obsessed with. Sammy laughs, letting Jack lean further into his personal space.

“You have no room to talk,” Sammy teases. “You were popular in high school. The Aaron Samuels of suburban California, just less straight.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jack head butts his shoulder. “Just because I was on the football team…”

“The wrestling team, the track team….” Sammy fills in with a winning smile as Jack groans. “You were popular! You had admirers! A cheerleader girlfriend!”

“Yeah, and look how well that turned out,” Jack says snidely and Sammy giggles. Jack settles back into where he was laying his head on Sammy’s shoulder.

“I thought you were straight when we met,” Sammy says and Jack makes a face.

“I hate this story,” Jack mutters and Sammy nudges Jack’s cheek with his shoulder. His head is right there, he may as well.

“I like it,” Sammy declares. “I mean, it’s most embarrassing for Lily than either of us since I literally thought she was your girlfriend…”

“This is the most disgusting story ever and I hate that.”

“That’s literally it, that’s literally the story,” Sammy reminds him, holding back a laugh. “I thought Lily was your girlfriend, said so, and you corrected me.”

“Mortifying,” Jack groans and turns his head more into Sammy’s chest. Sammy tries not to enjoy it, but he can’t really deny that he likes the feeling of Jack being right there, pressed up against him.

“The moral of this story is that college is better than high school,” Sammy says. “It’s where you meet your best friends who happen to be siblings but immediately assume they’re dating even though they’re gay.”

“I’m gay, Lily’s not,” Jack yawns and Sammy makes a noncommittal noise.

“What?” Jack asks.

“She’s been using lots of gender neutral language when she talks about that person she’s seeing,” Sammy shrugs. “Not saying she’s dating a girl but – well, I know the tactics.”

“Huh,” Jack frowns. “Well, I hope she tells us. If that is the case.”

“I’m sure she will,” Sammy reassures him. “I mean, she literally told me that you’re gay. And vice versa. I’m sure if she’s gay, she’ll consider it just as ridiculous to try to hide it from us as she thought us trying to hide it from each other was.”

Jack laughs as Sammy fondly recalls coming over to Jack and Lily’s shared college apartment and awkwardly try to discuss his boyfriend without actually saying he was a boyfriend, unknowingly Jack was trying to do the exact same

Which was when Lily groaned, put her head in her hands, and said _you sweet dumb boys. You’re both gay. You both have boyfriends. Sammy’s dating Logan from his Geometry class and Jack’s dating Mick who works at the radio station. You’re both so goddamn stupid. What? You guys thought it wasn’t obvious?_

“I still don’t know how she knew about Logan,” Sammy says. “I never told her.”

“She’s a super spy,” Jack says, and Sammy can tell he’s rolling his eyes even though Jack’s face is pointed downward and not at Sammy. “I also didn’t tell her about Mick, but at least she had jurisdiction to spy on me. I’d be pissed about it if it didn’t lead to…well, you and I becoming best friends. So if I bring it up, I have to _thank_ her. Ew.”

Sammy laughs, shifting to pull Jack closer. “I know. We really do owe her for that. Not that I plan on telling her that anytime soon…”

“She already knows,” Jack says. “Now shhh. I heard Regina George gets hit by a bus and I don’t want to miss that part.”

Sammy laughs and settles back into comfortable silence, but a thought continues nagging at him. Jack had a boyfriend when they met, has had several boyfriends in the three years since, and has a boyfriend now.

Jack’s never once insinuated that he wants more from Sammy in all the time they’ve known each other.

On the other hand, Sammy has had, at the greatest possible estimate, two boyfriends in those three years, one of them not serious and one of them getting too serious to take, always with the caveat that he’d feel more strongly for Jack than he would anyone else.

It’s fine, Sammy rationalizes with himself, and they’re better off that way anyway. They’re best friends, broadcast partners, and better off remaining that way. Besides, Sammy never wants Jack to look at him like the guys that sleep with him do. He never wants to be interchangeable to Jack.

* * *

 

Sammy knows he’s a lost cause from the second Jack puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls Sammy in closer.

Before Jack can even hit play on this week’s episode of Lost, Sammy’s already tearing up and Jack notices immediately.

“Sammy, are you alright?” Jack shifts to look him in the eye, his own eyes huge and worried. He probably should be. Sammy doesn’t cry much unless it’s at sad movies or completely alone. “Shit, what’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” Sammy reassures Jack, and whatever else he was going to say gets stuck in his throat. “A really long week, that’s all.”

Jack stares at him, eyes flitting over his body as if a wound is suddenly going to make itself apparent. “It can’t just be that – are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m sure,” Sammy says, mostly to himself, and reaches up to hastily wipe at his eyes and remove all traces of proof of how fucked up he feels right now. “I – I’m sorry, it’s just – a lot of heavy stuff is happening, and I’m not really sure –”

“What kind of stuff?” Jack asks, eyes searching just his face now. “Stuff with – with your family, or your boyfriend , or – I don’t know, something else I don’t know about?”

Sammy tries to say something about how Seth listened to the radio yesterday but it’s just not going to happen. How can you articulate to your best friend just how over your head you are when it comes to something like this?

“I’m exhausted,” Sammy tells Jack instead.

“I can tell,” Jack says softly, running a soothing hand across Sammy’s back. “Are you sure that’s it?”

“It’s just stress,” Sammy says, and certainly that’s the truth, Seth is causing a great deal of stress. “Stress and not getting enough sleep.”

“You take my bed tonight then,” Jack says and Sammy makes a noise of protest. “No, seriously, I don’t need it. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You always sleep on the couch when I’m here,” Sammy says without meaning to and he can almost feel Jack’s smile even though he’s not looking right at him. “Good thing you have a big couch.”

“Well, I’ll get it to myself tonight then,” Jack teases, and squeezes Sammy’s shoulder. “Do you – do you want to go home? You don’t have to stay over –”

“Jack, Fridays are the only day I actively look forward to, don’t take this away from me,” Sammy says, and Jack laughs. “Just – tell me something to cheer me up, okay?”

Jack’s quiet for a second before he says “Alright. So. I wasn’t going to tell you this, but…you’ll think it’s really funny.”

“You weren’t going to tell me something?” Sammy sits up fully, blinking the last of his tears away. He puts himself fully in this moment right now with Jack and tries to shove everything else to the side. “I’m offended.”

“It’s about sex,” Jack says with an awkward smile and Sammy half-smiles at him.

“We do talk about sex on occasion,” Sammy points out. He and Jack used to talk about sex quite a bit back when they first started Guys Night in college, just because they’d never had anyone to talk about it candidly with before without judgment. It’s where Sammy learned about Jack’s debilitating fear of HIV and Jack learned about Sammy’s debilitating fear of intimacy in general.

 “Not like this,” Jack says, and he shifts to put his head between his knees. “This is…super embarrassing.”

“What?” Sammy asks, suddenly concerned for Jack before he remembered that this is supposed to be Jack’s way of cheering him up. It can’t be anything too bad. Sammy’s projecting his own issues onto Jack now.

“Okay, so. Last week, I learned about this thing Mason’s into that I’m….uh, _really_ not into,” Jack says, still not looking at Sammy. Jack’s usually not the kind to embarrass easily, and it’s already making Sammy giggle even though he doesn’t know what it is.

“There’s so many things this could be,” Sammy says, and pokes Jack’s shoulder. “C’mon, it’ll be painless. I’ll try not to laugh.”

“Don’t bother not trying,” Jack says, muffled from where he’s hiding his face. “Okay. Um. It involves…roleplay.”

Sammy puts a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. “Jack. Be honest with me. Were you sexy Princess Leia?”

“No,” Jack says, though his voice is pitched higher than usual. “I hadn’t that of that, so this story does have an upside. Not a very big one, though. He, uh – he asked me to dress up as –”

Jack’s next words are too muffled for Sammy to hear.

“Repeat that?” Sammy asks, biting his lip to keep from grinning.

Jack finally looks over at him with deadened eyes and a face that’s preparing for impact. “Captain Kirk.”

“You were right,” Sammy gasps for breath through his laughter, his words punctuated with giggles. “I shouldn’t have bothered trying not to laugh. That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in my entire life, holy shit.”

“It was not my favorite experience,” Jack says, burying his head in his knees again.

“Did you have to pretend to be Kirk, too? Lots of references to saving the galaxy and the Starship Enterprise?” Sammy giggles. “Who was he supposed to be? Spock? Uhura? A random sexy alien?”

“I still don’t know,” Jack says, and he’s half-shaking with laughter, too. “He already had a Captain Kirk costume, so I assume I wasn’t the first to use it.”

“That’s even _better_.” Sammy could not be more delighted by this situation. “Though at least that means that it’s his own personal kink and you don’t just give off a distinctive William Shatner vibe.”

“Small mercies,” Jack mutters, but Sammy can hear the smile in his voice.

 “Beam me up, Scotty!” Sammy says, making his voice all breathless and leaning over to shake Jack’s shoulders. Jack almost tackles him.

“Did my sacrifice cheer you up?” Jack asks from on top of Sammy, elbows propped up on either side of his head, and Sammy nods.

“I even forget I was sad,” Sammy says, and Jack’s smile is a little sad itself.

For a second, Sammy thinks Jack might lean down and kiss him, but the moment’s gone as soon as it’s started, and Sammy figures that was just wishful thinking on his part. Jack lets Sammy up begrudgingly.

“I’m glad I’ve never met Mason, since now my only association with him is going to be Star Trek,” Sammy says. “Which I’ll never be able to watch again without picturing you in the starring role. You’re way hotter than William Shatner any day.”

Jack flips Sammy off with a fond look on his face. “Oh, you think I’m ever going to be able to sit through an episode again without reliving that? Not a chance.”

“Was the sex at least good?” Sammy asks and Jack hesitates for a second before nodding, albeit with a heavy blush.

“He was… _enthusiastic_ ,” Jack says. “I was…mostly disturbed, but I want the record to reflect that I didn’t laugh at him to his face and immediately said I’d be willing to try anything he was into. Also, I was a _great_ Captain Kirk, and anybody who wants a starship captained should come straight to me, if you know what I mean.”

He wiggles his eyebrows and now it’s Sammy’s turn to groan and put his head in his hands.

* * *

 

When Jack opens the door, he’s got his phone pressed up to his ear. He mouths _sorry, five minutes,_ holding up his hand with the number and Sammy nods, moving past him to make himself comfortable on the couch.

Sammy tries not to listen to any of the call or analyze the fact that Jack went down the hall to his bedroom to continue talking instead of just talking in front of Sammy. It could just be him trying to spare Sammy from some boring work call or if he’s on hold with his insurance company, or maybe his mom called and Jack tends to get tense when that happens.

Still, Sammy has a nagging suspicion that it’s Mason, especially when he hears Jack’s voice get a little louder and more forceful.

It’s confirmed when Jack comes back into the living room exactly five minutes later, off the phone and with exhausted look on his face.

“What’s up?” Sammy asks when Jack practically falls on top of him with a long, tired sigh. He automatically hugs Jack, but only lets himself squeeze for a few seconds before he lets go.

“Tired,” Jack says, and though sits up straight, it’s only to readjust so he’s curled against Sammy’s side. “Put on the news or something, I’m too annoyed to focus on anything for real right now.”

“Okay,” Sammy says, reaching for the remote, and puts on CNN. They watch it quietly for a few minutes while Sammy thinks about what the best course of action would be. Jack usually isn’t the maudlin one.

Finally, he decides to take the remote again, muting Wolf Blitzer and turning to Jack, who isn’t quite looking at Sammy.

“Talk to me about it?” Sammy knows it’s a bit hypocritical coming from him, the master of avoiding talking about his emotions, but he’s hoping Jack’s a bigger and less petty person than he is.

Jack sighs through his nose, and his eyes are on Sammy’s knees instead of his face. “Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be a big deal to talk to me about it,” Sammy points out. “I rant to you about the pettiest shit all the time. I promise that this is definitely less stupid than the time I decided I wasn’t ever talking to Ray from the Sportscast again because he took the last Three Musketeers bar from the vending machine at work.”

“Fair point,” Jack’s chuckle is weak, but at least it’s there. He sighs, almost deflating into Sammy, and his voice is small when he speaks. “Mason’s still seeing other people. And I don’t know if I’m okay with that. Which I know is stupid –”

Sammy tries not to tense up, and instead slowly moves his hand against Jack’s shoulder. “You wanting him to commit isn’t stupid, Jack. You guys have been seeing each other for a while, and you want a real relationship. That makes total sense.”

“He’s just making me feel shitty about asking that of him,” Jack says. “Says it’s not fair when I want to keep him a secret. And yet when I tell him that I want him to meet you and Lily, the most important people in my life, who I _don’t_ keep secrets from, he has no interest.”

“I was wondering what had happened to that idea,” Sammy says quietly. “Jack – even if you like him, that doesn’t mean it’s going to be enough, if you guys want such different things.”

“That’s the crux of it, I have no idea what the fuck he wants,” Jack says, huffing a breath out through his nose. “I think even if I came out to everyone in the fucking world, it wouldn’t guarantee him making any sense.”

“You shouldn’t have to give up your life for him,” Sammy says, a rising panic growing in his chest that he tries to quash immediately. “How can he expect you to come out for him if he won’t even be exclusive? It’s like a…what’s it called. Catch-22?”

“Something like that,” Jack says, shifting slightly, almost curling around Sammy. “I had called him to see if he’d come to my rugby match tomorrow – you know, he could meet you and Lily, sit with you guys, show he cares enough about me to take an interest in my hobbies. He just said he wasn’t _into it_ , and I asked what that the hell that meant, and it just started us down this endless rabbit hole.”

“I’m sorry,” Sammy says, not sure what else to say right now, a nagging though in the back of his head reminding him that although he still hasn’t learned the rules to rugby, he and Lily never miss a match. “That really sucks, Jack.”

“I hope your relationship’s going better than mine,” Jack says, and the constant dread in Sammy’s stomach makes itself all the more known, a wave a nausea rolling through him. “How is it going, by the way? You never really mention him much.”

“I – I don’t know,” Sammy says, short of breath. He rests his head on top of Jack’s, glad that Jack’s not looking right at him.

“I feel like you know everything going in my love life but I haven’t heard any updates on yours lately,” Jack says. “Seriously, what’s going on with him? You still like him?”

“Um…” Sammy says, trying to think of things he could say that are both positive and true, and coming up mostly blank. “I think he’s taking the relationship, um, pretty seriously most of the time. We spend a fair bit of time together, and he seems to like being with me. He’s really, uh….I mean, he’s definitely…”

Sammy trails off and Jack shifts to look up at him, eyebrows knotted together with concern and Sammy lets go of pretense, letting his shoulders relax.

“He makes me anxious,” Sammy admits, screwing his eyes shut. “And I don’t always know why, but – sometimes he just freaks me out. It’s probably stupid and just in my head, but….I dread him coming over sometimes. He’s a little intense.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack reaches up hugs Sammy briefly, his arms around Sammy’s neck. “I was hoping he was a good guy.”

“He’s not like, bad or anything,” Sammy says quickly, even though he doesn’t know if that’s true or not, but he doesn’t want to worry Jack for no reason. “He’s just – not the most comfortable person to be around.”

“Still, that’s not great, either,” Jack says, eyebrows knitting together. “Do you think you’re gonna stay with him?”

Sammy shrugs, noncommittal. He really has no idea what he’s going to do next. Part of him wants to ask Jack the same question, but he doesn’t let himself.

* * *

 

_Jack’s still annoyed even though he’s pretending not to be. Expect problems w/ your usual marital bliss tonight._

Lily signed off her email about the show’s numbers this week with a personal message for Sammy, and Sammy’s reread it three or four times on his way up to Jack’s apartment, the pit in his stomach feeling altogether unpleasant.

Sammy withers and dies when he fights with Jack, even though this barely qualifies as a fight, really. Jack had been fine for the rest of the show, even if he’d been a little stricter with the schedule than usual and told both Lily and Sammy off more quickly than typical. Plus, he’d been joking around with them after the show, so Sammy thought everything had blown over.

He’s tentative when he knocks on Jack’s door, and can tell immediately from the tightness of Jack’s smile when he opens the door that Lily’s right.

“Hey,” Jack says, and his voice is far too measured. “Pick out a movie, I’m ordering pizza.”

“Jack,” Sammy says, and reaches forward to – well, to do something, he hadn’t decided yet, but Jack’s already moved away from him and toward the kitchen.

Sammy sighs, shutting the door and toeing off his shoes, but he doesn’t make his way over to Jack’s pile of DVDs. He listens to Jack order a pepperoni and sausage pizza in the other room and times it so he enters the kitchen exactly when Jack hangs up the phone.

“Is this about the werewolf thing at work?” Sammy asks and Jack doesn’t look at him. “Jack, c’mon. I’m sorry. I just –”

“You just don’t believe in that sort of thing,” Jack finishes even though that’s not what Sammy had been going to say. “I know. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m gonna worry about it until you stop being pissed with me,” Sammy says, crossing the room to stand next to Jack at the stovetop, where Jack’s examining a burner instead of looking at Sammy. “Seriously, Jack, I –”

Sammy takes a deep breath. “I just don’t want anyone to talk shit about you. Especially Lily.”

 “I don’t care if people talk shit about me, especially Lily,” Jack says, and his hold on his phone looks tight enough to crush it. “I talk about that kind of thing on the radio because I want to, and because we have listeners who like hearing about it. We have good numbers on the days I make you guys talk cryptids, even if the two of you would rather ignore that factoid.”

“The producers –” Sammy starts, and Jack turns to Sammy with a hard look in his eye.

“I’m your goddamn producer, Stevens, don’t give me that shit,” Jack says, the look on his face an open challenge, one that Sammy’s never going to take.

“I’m really sorry, Jack,” Sammy says instead. “You’re right, I don’t believe in werewolves or UFOs or Bigfoot – but you do, and that’s okay.”

“No it isn’t, it’s a reason for you and Lily to treat me like I’m a kid who never grew up properly,” Jack says, and Sammy hates the sulky look on his face and would do anything to make it go away. “I don’t appreciate being talked down to like I’m an idiot.”

“Jack, you’re the smartest person in the world,” Sammy says, both because it’s true and because he has to do something to make the aching in his chest stop. “I – I don’t ever mean to talk to down you, I’m sorry if that’s what it feels like. I just hate the idea of other people not realizing how smart you are and thinking less of you.”

“Sammy,” Jack says, open and honest and knowing he’s in the right here, “you’re just doing that instead. I care a lot more about how you treat me than I care about these faceless nobodies you’re so preoccupied with all the time.”

“I’m sorry,” Sammy says again. “I’m in the wrong here, and I know it, and I won’t do it again. Alright?”

“So the next time I decide to bring up werewolves or UFOs or Bigfoot on air –”

“I’ll be good, and will probably make a joke or two, but I’ll let you finish your sentences and share your opinions,” Sammy fills in for him and Jack half-smiles, half-grimaces at him. “C’mon, Jack. You know I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” Jack says, but unlike earlier today, his voice has lost its defensive and passive aggressive edge and mellowed out into truthfulness and a bit of exasperation that Sammy knows is warranted. “You and Lily are just being obnoxious again. I’ll live.”

“Let’s watch The X Files tonight,” Sammy suggests, and hides a smile when Jack lights up like nothing ever happened.

“Really?” Jack practically beams. “I thought you banned it.”

“We can break the rules tonight,” Sammy’s lips twitch. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen Mulder and Scully anyway. You can even quote the episode at me and I won’t mock.”

“You know just what to say,” Jack says with a fond shake of his head. “Alright, truce. What season do you want?”

“Your favorite,” Sammy says and Jack snorts.

“Now you’re just sucking up,” Jack says, but he moves out of the kitchen anyway, and Sammy follows him into the living room where Jack paws through his entire DVD collection of complete series of The X Files, which he’s seen many times all the way through, and Sammy’s surely seen at least once by now albeit out of order.

“Sorry I’m an annoying asshole,” Sammy says when he joins Jack on the couch and the eerie theme music starts. “I try not to be.”

“Sorry that I…” Jack says, and Sammy frowns at him as Jack searches for something. “I’m not really sorry for anything, actually.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Sammy says. “You’re a really great friend, Jack, and sometimes I’m just a dick. Can I blame overexposure to Lily?”

“Probably,” Jack says, and shifts to press their legs together. “It’s alright. You’re forgiven. Now shut up, the episode’s starting.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sammy grumbles, but when he leans into Jack’s space and Jack lets him, he knows Jack means it and everything is fine.

* * *

 

“What’s this?” Jack laughs as he tilts Sammy’s head to the side as Sammy accidentally relaxes enough that Jack can see the bite mark just above his collarbone. “Oh my God, Sammy Stevens has a hickey.”

“Shut up,” Sammy groans, closing his eyes involuntarily when Jack’s fingers brush against the bruise. “I don’t need your commentary, Wright, and I’ve graciously ignored _many_ of your hickeys in the past.”

“Yeah, but you get laid less than I do, so it’s more of a cause for celebration,” Jack says, and then makes an apologetic noise. “In general, I don’t mean recently. You still see Seth a lot?”

Sammy shrugs, purposefully not thinking about it. Friday is his night to not think about anything but Jack. “Yeah.”

Jack’s voice loses some of its energy and enthusiasm as he moves his hand to cup the back of Sammy’s head, studying him with concern. “You don’t sound too enthusiastic.”

“It’s fine,” Sammy reassures him, and wonders if he says it enough times it’ll start being true. “What about you, Captain Kirk? Any exciting escapades across the galaxy lately?”

“Lily knows places I can dump your body,” Jack squirms away from Sammy as Sammy squeezes his knee.

“Did you boldly go where no man has gone before?” Sammy puts on a sultry voice. “Live long and prosper? Set phasers to stun? Uh…it’s been awhile since I watched Star Trek….were you a doctor and not….I’ve got nothing left.”

“Thankfully,” Jack swats at Sammy and they play-wrestle for half a second, but Sammy relents before Jack can actually start trying.

“Let’s watch Star Trek next week so I have more jokes,” Sammy grins, Jack groans, and Sammy’s hickey is not returned to as a conversation subject.

* * *

 

“Dude, you don’t wanna be over tonight, I’m sick as shit,” Jack says, though he’s smiling affectionately from the doorway. He’s putting a fair bit of distance between himself and Sammy, bridging it only to kick Sammy when he tries to come inside.

“Jack, I even brought you sick food! Chicken noodle soup!” Sammy holds up the Tupperware container he brought over from his apartment after spending an afternoon in the kitchen. “It’s not even from a can, I made it all myself!”

“You’re so sweet,” Jack tells him, genuine through his stuffy nose. “Leave it here and then get out so I don’t sneeze all over you.”

“You can’t stop me,” Sammy tries to side-step Jack but Jack fully blocks him with a door halfway slammed in his face, though Jack stops just short of actually shutting it.

“Oh, fine,” Jack says and swings the door open again with a fond look on his face. “But I’m gonna fall asleep in like an hour, and _not_ on top of you.”

“I’ll sleep in the recliner,” Sammy says, trying not to think of how domestic their usual routine is and how that exchange would sound to anyone else, mainly Lily and her constant stream of commentary about how inexplicable it is that he and Jack have never fucked even once.

“This soup’s great,” Jack says when they’ve gotten situated, with much more distance between them than usual. Sammy feels like the chair is halfway across the world from the couch where Jack’s curled up at the end furthest from him. “I didn’t know you could make soup.”

“It’s my third attempt,” Sammy admits, and Jack gives him a big, goofy grin even through the haziness of his gaze.

“Thanks,” Jack says softly, and then ruins the moment by slurping the soup. Sammy laughs at him.

“I hope it makes you feel good enough for you to come back to work on Monday. Lily and I should _never_ be left to our own devices on the radio. It was basically a free for all.”

“I know,” Jack grins. “I listened. I can obviously never take a day off again or the two of you might commit homicide.”

They’re about midway through an episode of House, Jack sneezing every thirty seconds, when Sammy’s phone starts to ring. His heartrate suddenly spikes. Shit. He always turns his phone off when he gets to Jack’s, but today he forgot, what if –

He digs his phone out of his pocket and looks at the caller ID. It’s what he expects.

He lets it ring until it stops, and Jack gives him a questioning look from where he’s curled up on the couch, his long limbs taking all up almost all of it. How do the two of them manage to share that couch every week with them both as tall as they are?

“Who was it?” Jack asks, frowning slightly.

“Wrong number,” Sammy starts to say before he’s interrupted with another ring. Sammy clenches his teeth together, pulls out his phone again to check, and puts it back in his pocket.

“That’s not a wrong number expression,” Jack says, quiet as can be. “Who is it? Your mom? Your _dad_?”

Sammy doesn’t answer, looking at the ground, when Jack says tentatively, “Seth?”

Sammy shakes his head jerkily. “Sorry, I just – I usually turn it off when I’m here, so he doesn’t –”

“What?” Jack asks.

“This is our time to hang out,” Sammy says when he finds he can’t say anything else. “I don’t want anything interrupting that, even if you are barely company tonight. But he – they – everyone knows I’m busy on Friday nights even if they don’t know –”

He cuts himself off, feeling hot and more than a little sick himself.

Jack frowns at him and uses his elbows to push himself up. He reaches a limp arm in Sammy’s direction.

“You look sad,” Jack says. “C’mere.”

“You’re gonna get me sick,” Sammy says, but he’s already pushing himself upwards and gravitating in the direction of the couch. 

“Probably,” Jack says, but he hugs Sammy all the same.

* * *

 

Sammy knows he can’t go to Jack’s tonight when he can’t stop himself from shaking.

Even when he puts his mind to it, his body won’t let him just calm the fuck down. Sammy doesn’t think his anxiety has ever been worse. He can’t even call Jack to tell him he’s too sick to come, he texts him instead and then promptly turns his phone off so he doesn’t have to read any read Jack’s reply or hear from –

No distractions are working right now, so Sammy just covers himself in a blanket on his couch and waits for his body to stop betraying him like this so he can at least pretend to be a functioning member of society.

Sammy’s not sure how much time has passed when he hears the buzz of his apartment’s front door, and it immediately activates his fight or flight response. He ignores it, but then it keeps happening. Sammy knows from experience that Seth would give up eventually, but he knows Jack or Lily wouldn’t. They’re the two most stubborn people alive.

He stumbles toward the door and croaks “hello?” into the intercom.

Jack’s voice answers him with vague annoyance. “Dude, seriously, let me in.”

Sammy’s filled with an emotion somewhere between complete, unbridled affection and horrified dread, but he isn’t about to not let Jack come inside. He buzzes him up, and in less than ten seconds, Jack’s knocking at his door.

“Christ, you look awful,” Jack says when Sammy opens the door. Sammy tries his best to smile and look ordinary.

“Thanks,” Sammy says, and doesn’t put up a fight when Jack steps inside and closes the door behind him.

“Told you I’d get you sick,” Jack says quietly, pressing a hand to Sammy’s forehead, and Sammy doesn’t try to stop him or correct him. “Doctor?”

Sammy shakes his head. “I’ve got the weekend. I’ll be fine by Monday.”

Jack examines Sammy carefully as he brushes Sammy’s hair out of his face. It’s getting long. He should really cut it soon unless he wants people to talk.

“Something’s the matter,” Jack says, and Sammy’s heart lurches. “Something you’re not telling me.”

“Something like you gave me your flu,” Sammy says, and Jack’s eyes are so wide and genuine that Sammy has to squeeze his own shut. “Jack, seriously. It’s been a killer week. Go home, I’ll call you tomorrow and if I’m feeling better, I’ll meet Lily at your rugby match.”

“Go lay down,” Jack says, ignoring Sammy entirely. “I’ll make you sick food.”

“Jack –”

“Don’t whine, you did the exact same thing to me last week,” Jack says. “This is a taste of your own medicine, literally.”

“We’re just gonna pass our germs back and forth,” Sammy says as a desperate last-ditch attempt to get Jack to leave, but he already knows it’s a lost cause. He’d never leave Jack alone, so Jack’s not gonna leave him. Simple science, or something like that.

“Come on, it’s a slumber party,” Jack says, leaning over to hug Sammy briefly, over in a flash as Jack steps past him and toward Sammy’s adjoining kitchen. It’s a studio apartment, so there’s no room to hide like there is in Jack’s. “Just because it’s on your couch instead of mine…”

“No movies here,” Sammy points out weakly and Jack rolls his eyes.

“You have cable,” Jack says. “Pick something, I’ll make you sick food. You know the drill here, Sammy. You look freezing, so I think soup is in order for you, too.”

Sammy knows he can’t argue, and at least Jack thinks the shaking is from the chills so he can maintain that illusion for a little longer. He returns to the couch and drapes his blanket over himself until Jack comes back an indeterminate amount of time later with a bowl of tomato soup.

Sammy likes tomato soup. It’s his favorite. He didn’t know that Jack knew that. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but Jack smiles like he knows.

Sammy focuses on leaning against Jack’s shoulder for long enough that he forgets to keep shaking, but he’s struck with one unfortunate awful thought after Jack makes a joke about how they’re never over at Sammy’s.

Seth knows Sammy lives here.

Which sounds stupid, of course he knows Sammy lives here, he’s been here countless times. It’s never been as uncomfortable a thought as it is with Jack here because that could lead to something very, very messy happening.

“Sammy?” Jack asks and Sammy almost jumps. “God, you’re tense tonight. Seriously, are you okay?”

Sammy doesn’t answer, just curls up against Jack and tries to block out any thoughts of anything else.

* * *

 

Jack doesn’t bring it up until they’ve both drank two glasses of wine and finished half their pizza, Sammy forcing himself to eat because that’s what a normal person with no issues would do right now.

“So,” Jack says turning to him with a quirked eyebrow, and Sammy tenses up. He rationalizes that this can’t be that bad, and at least they’re back in Jack’s apartment this week where they belong.

“So,” Sammy says, grimacing, and he feels Jack put a hand on Sammy’s back.

“In the studio today...” Jack says, trailing off and sighing. “I mean, you threw up on the air, Sammy. No matter what shit goes on in your life, you’ve always been radio ready, but today – I’m just really worried about you. And not just about today – I have been for a while.”

“I’m still sick,” Sammy says, closing his eyes and willing Jack to believe him.

Jack’s voice, soft and gentle, interrupts. “Sammy. I don’t think you were sick to begin with. I think there’s something wrong that you’re not telling me, and I really wish you would so I can help you with whatever it is.”

“I don’t have to tell you everything,” Sammy snaps, and then he can’t open his eyes, can’t look at Jack, he’s so ashamed and exhausted.

He expects Jack to say something rude and walk away, but then Jack’s hand moves to Sammy’s wrist and squeezes.

“C’mon,” Jack says quietly. “It’s a slumber party.”

“It’s weird,” Sammy says, short and succinct and hating himself the whole time, “that we’re so close. Isn’t it? Most people don’t have friends this close.”

“Am I –” Jack is audibly struggling and Sammy wishes he could take it back, either that or wither up and die on the spot. “Is this about me? Am I – Sammy, seriously, what’s –”

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Sammy says, shaking his head. “God, I’m sorry, I just – I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

* * *

 

Jack looks like he’s going to bring up what happened last week.

It’s happened a few times now – at the studio the studio mainly, since Sammy’s been begging off their usual activities outside work hours. Even Lily’s noticed something’s the matter and she’s usually the least observant person when it comes to people’s emotional states.

Jack though, is all too aware that Sammy’s not okay right now. Sammy can’t take much more of his big concerned eyes that are constantly silently asking Sammy to tell him what’s wrong.

Sammy wouldn’t have come over on Friday, but he knows Jack will be less concerned if Sammy’s there, and maybe Sammy won’t break down again this time.

“How’s Mason?” Sammy asks to circumvent this whole conversation when Jack brings him a glass of wine. “I haven’t heard anything about him lately. Everything still….okay?”

Jack examines Sammy with a little suspicion, but he sighs when he sits down and relaxes into the couch.

“He’s fine,” Jack shrugs. “I’ve barely seen him lately.”

“Why not?” Sammy pesters, hopefully Jack will be distracted enough not to bother Sammy with questions.

Jack seems to look right through him though, because his smile is more sad than anything else. “We had a bit of a fight. It wasn’t a big deal, but I haven’t been in the mood lately. I think he’s gonna come over later this weekend but like, I don’t really care if he does.”

“What was the fight about?” Sammy asks and Jack gives him a look like he knows exactly what he’s trying to do and he’s not fooling anyone.

“I slept with someone else, and told him about it,” Jack admits, looking at the couch and not at Sammy. “I don’t know, I wanted him to be jealous or something. It didn’t work.”

“That doesn’t sound at all like you,” Sammy asks, and moves a little closer. “Is everything okay?”

“Hypocrite,” Jack leans forward and flicks Sammy’s forehead which Sammy supposes he deserves.

“Seriously, I’m fine, I just had a bad night last week,” Sammy says, keeping his voice as cool and calm as possible. “But you’re not the kind of person who does that, Jack. You’re way too – I don’t know.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Jack says, a touch defensive. “We’re not exclusive. He sleeps with every fucking guy he sees, how he even finds all of them I have no idea –”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sammy says. “I just mean, monogamy is your specialty.”

“Serial monogamist, that’s me,” Jack says with a humorless laugh. “For real, it’s nothing bad. I just don’t think Mason’s ever gonna feel strongly about me in any sort of way, especially not jealousy.”

“That could be a good thing,” Sammy points out, an itching feeling coming over him that he valiantly tries to block out. “Jealousy isn’t…you know, a sign of a healthy relationship.”

“Neither is not caring when your boyfriend sleeps with someone else,” Jack mutters, half-picking at the couch cushion rather than looking at Sammy.

Sammy moves automatically to put an arm around Jack, thinking that even if he can’t deal with his own shit, he can at least help Jack with his.

“See, if Mason came through that door right now,” Jack says, leaning his head against Sammy’s shoulder and pointing toward the door that leads into the apartment complex’s hallway, “and saw us all cuddled up together without context, he wouldn’t give a shit. Probably wouldn’t even blink.”

“Seth would probably kill you,” Sammy says, half to himself without even thinking about it, and it’s only when Jack jerks his head up to look at Sammy with wide eyes that Sammy realizes what that sounds like, in context with everything else Sammy’s said and done recently.

“Sammy,” Jack says, too slow, and Sammy tries to squeeze his eyes shut but he finds that his body isn’t listening to his brain anymore and all he can do is stare back at Jack, terrified and with a pounding heart. “What does that mean?”

“I – nothing,” Sammy says, but it’s a lost cause, he knows it by the look on Jack’s face like he’s putting together a puzzle in his head.

“This is about him, how you’ve been acting recently,” Jack says, voice almost strangled. “That thing you said last week – _friends aren’t that close._ Sammy, what does Seth know about me?”

Sammy takes an unsteady breath, trying to figure out all the possibilities as to what Jack’s thinking, what he could misconstrue. He knows he has to tell the truth, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be pain free.

“That we’re best friends,” Sammy says, and his voice is so quiet, he didn’t mean to be so quiet, “that we’re broadcast partners. And that….that we’re close. And he doesn’t like it. At all. Doesn’t like much of anything, really.”

“Okay,” Jack says, mostly to himself, “okay, your boyfriend is….is jealous of me. That – that makes sense, we’re really close, that makes sense. But why –”

“I knew from the beginning he was a pretty shitty boyfriend,” Sammy finds himself saying, the words spilling out without them trying to come. “He was mainly just – you know, horny and angry and hated the idea of you. But I– I don’t think he’s a good person, either. I really think he could hurt someone.”

“Hurt – who? Me? _You_?” 

Sammy’s non-response is an answer enough, and Jack’s face practically breaks as he pulls Sammy’s head against his neck and Sammy doesn’t realize he’s crying until he chokes back a sob.

“Sammy, why didn’t you say anything?” Jack whispers into Sammy’s shoulder. “God, I –”

“I’m sorry,” Sammy whispers shakily, everything he’s been repressing suddenly spilling out, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how to tell you and I’m still afraid he’d hurt you, and – and if I break things off with him, that he’d hurt me, I’m really in over my head here, I don’t know what to do – we met and we were fucking and it was fine, but then suddenly he wanted to know where I was and what I was doing and why I was always with you and he was listening to the show – I’m sorry, Jack, I’m really sorry, I don’t know how to do this –”

Sammy doesn’t hear what Jack’s whispering to him, but he knows the words matter a lot less than the gentle way Jack’s holding Sammy’s head, and he tries to focus on that and how tangible that is.

* * *

 

Sammy doesn’t sprint back to Jack’s car, but it’s a near thing.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sammy says the second he slams the door behind him, giving Seth’s apartment building behind him once last terrified glance, as if monsters are going to burst from it like an awful episode of Scooby Doo that gave Sammy nightmares as a kid.

“You’re shaking,” Jack reaches over with one hand, but keeps another on the wheel as he puts the car in drive and gets the hell off out of the street. Sammy squeezes his hand for half a second before he lets go, figuring it’s best if Jack focuses on driving and Sammy focuses on breathing. “Do you think – I mean, did he –”

“He yelled a fair bit, and threw something at me,” Sammy says and Jack gives him a wild look. “Don’t worry, he missed.”

“I wish you would’ve let me go up there,” Jack says, casting a dark look in his rearview mirror. “I bet I could take him.”

“You could, he’s not really that big, but _please_ only do that in your head, I don’t want him to –” Sammy breaks off with a shudder. “I’m worried enough about him finding some way to retaliate. Either telling our bosses or him just fucking showing up at my apartment –”

“Well, you’re staying with me tonight, that’s not a question,” Jack says, voice leaving no room for argument. “Hopefully if he has rage to blow off, it’ll cool down after tonight.”

“I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid, getting involved with him,” Sammy says, biting down hard on his lip. “I’m sorry, Jack. This could really fuck up your career as well as mine.”

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t,” Jack says, and Sammy notices how white his knuckles are as he grips the steering wheel. “I mean, you said he wasn’t out either – presumably there’s a pact of silence there. But if there isn’t, it’s okay, we’ll just – we’ll just go somewhere else. Try to make in like, California or New York – someplace where it matters less.”

 “You’d really –” Sammy stops himself from asking a stupid question. Of course Jack would really. The small smile Jack gives him is proof enough.

“You’ll always have me, no matter what,” Jack says, his voice firm and unquestionably confident. “And Lily, too – she’d probably murder that fucker herself if she knew half of this.”

Sammy must look panicked, because Jack quickly adds, “Not that I’m ever going to tell her.”

They’re quiet for a second, and Sammy watches the lights of the houses as they drive through the college neighborhood, glad that they’re going back to someplace familiar soon and that he doesn’t have to come here again.

“Just out of curiosity,” Jack says, a little too quiet. Sammy looks down at his hands. They feel like they’re his hands again, like his brain is connected to his body when it hasn’t been in so long. “Why did you wait so long? To tell me? I would’ve driven you here to break up with him months ago.”

Sammy bites his lip. “I guess I was just embarrassed. That I let someone like that into my life, but also – you know – his main problem was _you_. He despised you even though he’d never met you, and I thought…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jack cuts him off suddenly. “What matters is that – that it’s over, that you don’t have to see him ever again. But like, if something like that happens again – tell me right away. Please.”

Sammy nods, still not quite believing it. Seth’s made his life hell recently; his absence will be a relief, but Sammy can also tell that he’ll leave a hole, and not one that Sammy can fill easily.

“I won’t make that mistake twice,” Sammy promises Jack, and Jack half-smiles, half-grimaces in response.

“You shouldn’t ever have to settle for a shitty boyfriend, alright? Especially not anyone like him,” Jack says. “You deserve – you know, someone as amazing as you are.”

Sammy stops himself from saying that that’s probably why he dated Seth in the first place – Seth was a shitty person and Sammy usually felt like shit. He doesn’t say it out loud, though.

Jack doesn’t keep talking either, and he has a contemplative and almost frightened look in his face. Sammy tries to say something reassuring, but the words stick in his throat.

“You look worried,” Jack says when they finally pull up outside of Jack’s apartment complex, and Sammy shrugs.

“I am,” Sammy says. “I mean, he has a well-established temper and knows where I live. It’s not a fun combination.”

“Just stay with me,” Jack says without a missing a beat. “At least for the weekend. But honestly, next week, too. I – you shouldn’t be alone.”

“Extended slumber party,” Sammy tries to quip, and he gets a fleeting smile out of Jack.

“Lily would have a field day,” Jack says, and Sammy thinks his laugh is genuine.

* * *

 

“So,” Lily breezes past Jack in the doorway to give Sammy a shit-eating look that he hates. “You live here now.”

“I’m…staying,” Sammy regards her suspiciously from where he’s curled up in Jack’s recliner and wearing pajamas.

Lily turns back to Jack, who’s already wincing. “Are you fucking?”

“Are you really here right now or did you just create a holograph of yourself with all of your greatest hits on repeat?” Jack says with a more acerbic tone than usual. “Next up: _Jack, I’ll believe in UFOs when one beams you up in the sky and takes you back to your home planet_ and _Stevens, if you crack another joke during my news segment I’ll feed you to a my Chihuahua.”_

“Ooh, aren’t we annoyed today?” Lily smirks, making room for herself on the couch as both Sammy and Jack give her half-glares.

“Why are you here?” Jack asks her. “You know Friday is when Sammy and I –”

“I thought every night was gay slumber party night now,” Lily bats her eyelashes and Sammy doesn’t mention that he’s made the same joke because he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction. “Well, I bet Sammy needs it. Look at how sad he looks! Sad Sammy Stevens and his little pout.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Sammy says when Lily leans over and pinches his cheek. He swats at her until she lets go.

“Lily, stop being annoying or leave,” Jack says, annoyed. “This is the gay slumber party, so unless you want the gays to kick you out –”

Lily puts a hand on her heart as she gasps, faux-offended. “Good thing I’m gay, so you can’t.”

“You’re not,” Jack says, though he gives Sammy a questioning look. “And you shouldn’t say that just to get a rise out of me.”

“Good thing I’m very serious,” Lily tells him. “I can call my girlfriend to give you my full report card on my lesbianism. I promise I’m getting straight As. Well, really, Bs and Cs, if B and C stand for –”

“Lily!” Jack interrupts with a scandalized look on his face and Sammy stifles a laugh, feeling light for the first time since recent events.

“Come on, give me your pink alcohol and sappy movies, I’m ready for them, I’m in the club now,” Lily says.

“You would be gay just to score an invite to our exclusive parties,” Sammy says, trying and failing to hide a grin. “We know you’ve been jealous of us this whole time.”

 Lily makes a sardonic comment, but Sammy can see the real smile on her face.

When Lily falls asleep on Jack’s couch after copious glasses of wine, Sammy moves to stretch back in the recliner but Jack shakes his head.

“C’mon, my bed’s big enough for both of us and that chair’s awful to sleep in,” Jack whispers, casting a look over at Lily.

“Lily’s gonna have something to say about that in the morning,” Sammy tells him, and Jack hides a smile.

“Don’t listen to her, she’s full of shit,” Jack advises. “I like having you here all the time, and if Lily can’t fathom that without thinking about sex, that’s her problem. Now c’mon, or we’ll wake her up and she’ll kill us.”

Sammy must’ve lost a few of his boundaries, because all he can do is nod and follow Jack to his room.

* * *

 

“Hey, should we get wine? It is Friday night, after all.”

Jack gestures over to the wine section in the grocery store three blocks from his apartment, where he’s dragged Sammy along so they can get food that he likes. Sammy’s reminded of the food in his own fridge that’s long expired, but he hasn’t been in – a week? Two weeks? It’s blurring together a bit. Anything of his that he needs is at Jack’s place anyway, and if Sammy doesn’t have something, he can borrow Jack’s.

He knows the button up he’s wearing right now is Jack’s, the sleeves just a little too long and the shoulders too broad. It’s a generic enough shirt that no one at work would notice, and thankfully Lily hadn’t made any comments in studio this morning, so she hadn’t taken note.

“Is Lily coming over?” Sammy asks and Jack wiggles his eyebrows.

“She has a _date_ , so I think she’s gonna have a – slumber party of her own,” Jack says, stumbling slightly, and Sammy knows he almost said _gay_ in the middle of the grocery store. Jack’s ears are pink but Sammy does his best to smile encouragingly.

“Well, we might as well get some wine,” Sammy says. “Guys Night might lose a bit of the old magic, but –”

“Jack?”

Sammy turns at the sound of the voice behind him and sees a guy about their age wearing a backward baseball cap wave at Jack. Jack, from Sammy’s other side, flushes red.

“Oh hey, Mason,” Jack says a little uncomfortably, and Sammy whirls back around to get a better look at the guy.

Not very tall but broad in the shoulders, reddish brown hair, clean shaven, slight smile, Sammy finds himself filing away the information piece by piece.

“What’s up?” Jack asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“It’s…been awhile,” Mason says, eyes shifting from Sammy to Jack. Suddenly Sammy feels too big for his own skin. He had almost forgotten that Mason existed these past few weeks, but of course if Jack’s spending every night home with Sammy, he’s not going out with Mason.

“Yeah, it’s been a crazy month,” Jack laughs, his voice not letting anything on. “Um, this is Sammy. Sammy, this is Mason.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sammy says, sticking a hand out to shake automatically. Mason looks at the offering for a second before taking his hand, and his grip is firmer than Sammy expected.

“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Mason says, and he sounds sincere enough. “I’m on my way out but – call me this weekend, Jack? We should do something.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Jack says, and Sammy can’t tell how sincere he is. Mason waves at them both on his way out.

“That was…” Sammy says, staring after him, and Jack sighs as his shoulders droop.

“Awkward,” Jack filled in.

“I can survive without you, you know,” Sammy says, feeling like it’s his obligation to say so. “You can go out with him whenever you want. And if you want to bring him home – I mean, I do have an apartment of my own that’s probably in desperate need of some attention.”

“No,” Jack says, almost too quickly. “I mean – yeah, I should call him, maybe we’ll do something, but – I want you to keep staying with me.”

Sammy’s voice lowers to a whisper as he says “It’s been long enough, Jack, I really don’t think Seth’s –”

“Not because of him,” Jack clarifies, and his smile is awkward and sweet in a way Sammy doesn’t see often. “Just because.”

“Okay,” Sammy says, and has to look away to keep from saying something stupid.

They get wine along with the rest of their groceries, and it’s only when they’re driving back to Jack’s apartment that Jack says “I like living with you. It’s easy. I’m a lot happier with you around.”

“I – me too, Jack,” Sammy says, a warm feeling growing in the center of his chest. “Every other time, I feel like I’m just – pretending to be myself. Imitating myself. But with you, it’s like….I don’t know, I’m sounding sappy as hell, stop me at any point.”

Jack grins at him, affectionate and pleased. “I get it. And me too. You’re way more important than some stupid boyfriend, alright?”

“I know,” Sammy says, and tries not to feel anything but happiness at that.

* * *

 

Sammy wakes up in the middle of the night and doesn’t remember where he is at first, thinking firstly of his apartment which causes disappointment, then Seth’s apartment, which causes panic.

But when his eyes fly open he immediately sees Jack splayed out on the other side of the bed, mouth open slightly and nuzzling a pillow.

The happiness and relief Sammy feels is equivalent to an aching longing somewhere deep in his chest.

Sammy still sleeps on the couch sometimes, but Jack’s bed is big enough for the two of them to lie side by side and not touch. They could touch. They could touch easily, but they don’t.

“What are you staring at?”

Sammy practically jumps when Jack blinks blearily over at him, smiling, and Jack quickly adds “I’m just kidding. Did something wake you?”

“No,” Sammy says, heart still half in his throat. “I – Jack –”

Jack’s brow furrows with concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Sammy reassures him instantly. “I just…”

“What?”

“Do you ever want me to go?” Sammy says, and Jack blinks at him with confusion.

“Didn’t we go over this already?” Jack stifles a yawn. “I really, really don’t want you to go. Um – uh – do you? Want to go?”

The look of insecurity on Jack’s face is too much for Sammy to feign detachment in, and he quickly says “Of course not.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Jack asks.

“You still haven’t gone out at all,” Sammy says before he can stop himself. “With Mason, or anyone, and I just – I don’t want to be holding you back. Just because I massively fucked up a relationship doesn’t mean –”

“Firstly, you didn’t fuck up a relationship,” Jack’s voice verges on severe for half a second, but he interrupts that with a sad smile. “A relationship fucked you up, and you’re getting through that. And secondly, I _did_ call Mason.”

Jack sighs, curling in on himself more. “I called him to…to break things off. Permanently.”

“I – what?” Sammy asks, not quite comprehending. “Jack – you really liked him.”

“Not so much anymore,” Jack says quietly. “And besides, I have other priorities. I’ve always had other priorities, but –”

He breaks off, clearing his throat. Sammy might be imagining it but he thinks Jack’s looking more at Sammy’s nose than his eyes.

“Mason was nowhere near as shitty as that fucker I won’t even mention,” Jack says, voice growing a little tighter as he skirts around Seth. “But he wasn’t a great boyfriend. He was pretty shit at being a boyfriend, actually, so I took my own advice and broke up with him. I’d been putting it off for a while, so – thanks, Sammy. I probably wouldn’t have done it if not for you. I would’ve just sucked it up and dealt with all his weird mood swings and guilt trips.”

“I – you’re welcome? I’m also sorry,” Sammy says, not quite sure which he’s feeling more strongly as of right now.

“Do you ever –” Jack cuts himself off and Sammy blinks over at him.

“What?”

“Too much a conversation for this late at night,” Jack says, his smile small and tired but still genuine. “We’ll talk later. You’re coming to the rugby match tomorrow, right? Lily said she was gonna bring her new girlfriend.”

Sammy half-laughs. “She’s already braver than the two of us combined.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Jack says, a little too quiet.

Sammy isn’t sure which of them falls back asleep first.

* * *

 

Lily and her new girlfriend Miranda come over for dinner the next Friday night, and Lily practically simpers around her. It’s completely delightful and the subject of much mockery the second Miranda kisses Lily goodbye, tells Jack and Sammy it was nice to meet them, and is out the door.

“Oh, Miranda, can I pass you the salt?” Jack falls dramatically against Lily’s shoulder and she pretends to wipe it off with disgust from where they’re on the couch.

“ _Miranda_ ,” Sammy adds, reaching across the space between them to take Lily’s hand gently. “Won’t you let me hold your hand, my beautiful princess?”

“You two talk _really_ big for two people who claim not to be a couple,” Lily wrenches her hand out of Sammy’s and putting on a high-pitched voice. “Oh Sammy, let’s make waffles together tomorrow! Oh Jack, what a great idea! You’re always so smart!”

“Shut up,” Jack says, and it’s light and laughter-filled until Lily suddenly makes it not so as she sits up straight, looking at each of them in the eye seriously.

“I really can’t take this idiocy,” Lily tells him, sighing. “Look, I know I’ve made jokes about this since you two met, and yes, some of them _have_ just been jokes. But they’re really, _really_ not anymore. I mean, Stevens is living here! You both basically broke up with your boyfriends _for_ each other!”

“You don’t know anything about that, so watch it,” Jack says, voice just the edge of hard as Sammy shifts uncomfortably.

“I know _you_ did,” Lily turns to Jack with a type of knowingness that makes Sammy sit up a little straighter and makes his heart beat just a little faster. “C’mon, Jack. I can read between the lines. You broke things off with Mason because you realized you’ll never love him as much as you love Sammy. You practically told me so yourself.”

“I – I –” Jack says, and there’s a look of panic in his eyes that Sammy hates yet doesn’t hate, because he doesn’t know what the hell it means, but he does know Jack is gaping like a fish and Lily’s being obnoxious, and –

“You two are, at the very least, in _lust_ with each other,” Lily says, “and it would do you both a favor to either fuck it if or your systems or declare your undying devotion for all eternity. Which will be a whole new kind of disgusting, but honestly, I’m so goddamn sick of the pining that I’ll take _anything_ else.”

“Lily, just – just shut up,” Sammy says when Jack doesn’t, not sure if he sounds panicked or resigned. “Don’t be –”

“Look,” Lily says, her gaze growing less judgmental and a little softer, or at least as soft as Lily ever gets. “You guys obviously need some help here, since you’re men and therefore incapable of talking about your feelings. I’m just pushing you in the right direction – which, I might add, I’ve done before, with fantastic results.”

She gestures to the three of them as a whole, and Sammy knows that she knows they’ve conceded a point in her favor with that reminder.

“I’m just gonna go,” Lily says, standing and heading toward the door, stopping only to grab her jacket and purse. “I don’t want to be around for what’s sure to be an evening of repressing everything I’ve just said or wild crazy monkey sex. Both sound equally horrific to witness. So….make good choices.”

The door shuts behind her.

Sammy can’t look anywhere but his hands. The silence is horrifically awkward.

“So,” Jack speaks first, like Sammy knew he would.

“So,” Sammy repeats, hoping his voice doesn’t sound too strangled

“She’s – she’s not _entirely_ off base here.” Jack visibly swallows. “I do love you. I’m probably _in_ love with you.”

The air goes out of Sammy’s lungs.

“But you’re my best friend,” Jack finishes like he’s racing for it, and Sammy’s almost relieved when the world shifts back to normal. “I don’t ever want to risk that. Our friendship – it’s the most important thing to me. I couldn’t live without you. It’s not – lacking or lesser just because we’re not together, even if…even if sometimes I wish we were.”

The last part is said so quietly Sammy almost has to strain to hear it.

“Jack,” Sammy says, his voice strangled and for once, he knows what he’s going to say next. “I love you, too.”

Jack looks up at him, not with that full-face beam that Sammy loves but with smaller smile, and Sammy loves that one too, but there’s something almost sad about it that makes Sammy’s chest hurt.

“I couldn’t handle it if we got together and then broke up,” Jack says, and Sammy nods along with the pained tone of Jack’s voice. “Romance complicates shit, and I don’t want us to be complicated. It’s always been so easy with us.”

“It is,” Sammy says, and Jack bites his lip. It feels like there’s so much distance between them right now even though it’s only a few feet, and Sammy wants to reach out but isn’t sure how.

“If I could promise you that we’ d be together forever, that we’d never break up, I’d be with you in a heartbeat,” Jack says, heartbreakingly honestly, meeting Sammy’s eyes so fully and genuinely with the beginnings of tears in them. “But that’s a pretty tough thing to promise.”

“I – I know what you mean,” Sammy makes himself talk, and even though it feels sort of like he’s on fire, he understands what Jack’s saying and knows it’s for the best, that he’d manage to fuck things up with Jack too, and then there would never be anyone else for him. “It would change too much, us being together. Like that.”

Jack blinks at him a couple times. “I don’t think – I mean, some obvious stuff would change. But like – you live here. We’re best friends. I love you. None of the important stuff would change. That’s why I’m okay with – with things staying the way they are.”

“Something would change,” Sammy tells him, feeling it in his gut. “It would – it would change the way you looked at me.”

“It wouldn’t,” Jack says, so soft. “And even if it did – you make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“It would be,” Sammy says, suddenly feeling the need to justify himself, wondering why Jack’s not understanding what he’s getting at. “You’d – I mean – anyone I’ve – you know – no one likes me very much after –”

Something changes in Jack’s face, his eyes growing wider.

“Sammy,” Jack says, too quiet and gentle for Sammy to take right now as he looks anywhere but at Jack’s face. “It wouldn’t change anything. Being together – that would be the easy, happy part – it’s the rest of the world I’m worried about. Being closeted, on the radio, with an interfering older sister – those are my concerns here. How I feel about you – I mean, I’ll _always_ love you.”

“All I know is that I get treated like shit by anyone who –” Sammy can’t finish his sentence, his throat is burning. He can’t meet Jack’s eye. “It would be different, afterwards. Somehow.”

The silence lasts too long, and Sammy doesn’t look up. He knows Jack will get it eventually, he doesn’t want to have to spell it out, doesn’t think he can articulate the words.

“No,” Jack says, and his voice is so certain that Sammy’s eyes accidentally fly to his. His gaze is long and hard and amazingly sure. “It wouldn’t. I’d never. I – I would –”

Sammy doesn’t really understand what happens next, all he knows is that Jack’s suddenly standing, Jack’s suddenly in front of him, Jack’s suddenly leaning down, Jack’s suddenly kissing him, chaste but long, his hands cupping Sammy’s cheeks and Sammy doesn’t know if he’s kissing back or not –

Jack breaks away slowly, and Sammy can feel him shudder. His hands don’t leave Sammy’s face.

“Jack,” Sammy croaks and Jack looks down at him, eyes bright blue and terrified but there’s something else there, too.

“I promise it wouldn’t be different,” Jack’s voice is shaky. “And if it was, it would be because it was better. I’m not – not trying to push – I don’t even know – know if this is what we should do, but – I just wanted you to know. It would be the same with us. Easy. _Good_.”

Sammy nods, not sure what else to do, unable to name any of the countless emotions he’s feeling right now.

“I love you,” Sammy says, because it seems like the only thing to say when your best friend kisses you. He half-expects Jack to kiss him again, but instead Jack hugs him, just like normal, just like any other night, and Sammy hugs back tightly, glad he’s able to hide his teary eyes in Jack’s shoulder.

* * *

 

Sammy isn’t sure how long he’s been staring at Jack sleeping on the other side of the bed, but he’s pretty sure he’s approaching the two hour mark and doesn’t show signs of stopping.

Jack looks smaller when he sleeps. Jack’s not a small guy, but his shoulders scrunch together as he curls around a pillow making up look younger than he is.

Sammy feels like the weirdest crazy stalker, but it is Jack. Jack wants him here, in his apartment, in his bed, even though they’re still _only friends_. Sammy doesn’t know what he did to deserve Jack, and doesn’t know how the hell he’s ever going to keep Jack in his life, _only friends_ or –

Or something else entirely.

But not entirely, Sammy has to remind himself, it’s not a dichotomy. Jack’s going to be his best friend even if they’re something else too, no matter how hard Sammy’s mind finds that to believe.

He has faith in Jack though; Jack’s never broken a promise in all the time Sammy’s known him. And he’s always been Sammy’s best friend, no matter what awful details Sammy’s spilled to him about things he’s done or things he’s afraid of doing. Jack’s always been there for him. There’s no reason to think otherwise except for Sammy’s list of shitty relationships that exhaust him to even think about.

But Jack’s his best friend. It should be different. It would be different with Jack. No, it would be the same with Jack.

Sammy can’t stop ruminating, turning the same thoughts over and over in his head, and so he continues to stare at Jack sleeping and wonders what it would be like –

“Hey,” Jack says, and Sammy jumps.

“Jesus, you scared me,” Sammy says and Jack smiles. Jack’s room never gets fully dark, the light from the gas station across the street always illuminated in his window. Sammy’s grateful for that, it means Jack can smile at him and Sammy can see it.

“Didn’t mean to,” Jack says. “I’m pretty sure you were thinking so hard you woke me up.”

“Sorry,” Sammy says, hoping that the light isn’t bright enough for Jack to see his blush.

“I’m a light sleeper anyway,” Jack yawns, and reaches his hand out. Sammy takes it unthinkingly, twisting their fingers together. Jack’s smile is sleepy but so happy, and Sammy decides what he’s going to do the second he does it.

He angles his head forward and kisses Jack, resting his head on Jack’s pillow. Jack shifts just slightly to kiss him back. It’s longer than when Jack kissed him last week, deeper too, and Sammy remembers he has hands that work this time and rests one on the back of Jack’s head, where his hair meets his neck.

“I decided something,” Jack says a little breathlessly, mostly excitedly, when Sammy breaks the kiss. It’s a mark of how well Sammy can read Jack’s tone that he isn’t even slightly anxious about what Jack’s going to say next.

Well, maybe just the tiniest bit. “What?”

“I can promise that I’ll be with you forever,” Jack says, his eyes wide and bright and all too serious. Sammy huffs out a little laugh, reaching to touch Jack’s face again.

“That’s a tough thing to promise,” Sammy reminds him and Jack nods.

“It is,” Jack says. “It’s a tough goddamn thing to promise someone, and I couldn’t promise it to just anybody. But I can promise it to _you.”_

“Jack,” Sammy says, affection leaking out of his voice but it’s not embarrassing anymore. “You really don’t have to, it’s not –”

“I’ve thought it over, and I can’t think of any possible reason that we’d ever have to break up,” Jack says with utmost gravity and Sammy can’t help but laugh. Jack takes everything so goddamn seriously. “No, listen – I know sometimes shit is tough, and people fall out of love. But that isn’t gonna happen with us, I’m deciding right now. We’re gonna make it work, even though we’re on the radio in Florida and that’s not the greatest place in the world to start a relationship. We’ll probably fight – I’ll be annoying about cryptids and you’ll be annoying about not believing in cryptids, and we’ll get over it because we’re goddamn adults.”

Sammy hopes Jack can see just how much he’s smiling, just how much love he has for Jack right now, because he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to say that much out loud.

“It won’t be easy, but I promise anyway – there isn’t a scenario I can dream up that we couldn’t overcome if we tried. If you cheat on me, I’ll probably forgive you. Which isn’t a free pass to cheat on me, by the way.”

“We’d be very exclusive,” Sammy says in almost a whisper and he hears Jack let out a little chuckle.

“And even if we did break up,” Jack says, and his voice wobbles just enough for Sammy to take Jack’s hand back in his own and knot their fingers together, “you would still be my best friend. _That_ is never gonna change. You’re stuck, alright? Completely stuck with me. We’re best friends first and foremost, and that’s how we’re going to stay no matter what else happens.”

“Jack, I – I promise, too,” Sammy says, stumbling slightly, knowing anything he manages to say will be clumsy in comparison to Jack. “You’re the first person I’ve ever – the only person that’s ever – felt like _home_.”

Jack kisses him again, this time much deeper, and Sammy finds himself leaning into it as Jack presses against Sammy and their legs tangle together.

Sammy gasps and feels himself involuntarily twist slightly when Jack suddenly changes the angle of the kiss and Jack breaks away with an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry,” Jack whispers, and leans in to peck his lips. “We can take things slowly. I just want to show you that I’ll love you just as much tomorrow.”

“I already know you will,” Sammy reassures him, and leans in to kiss him again, just a peck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jack grins, all brightness. “And that’s – that’s going to be enough. More than enough to make this last forever. I know it.”

“You’re confident,” Sammy says, half into Jack’s lips.

“True love is one of those crazy stories I believe in,” Jack says, Sammy thinks that if Jack can get him to believe in anything, this is gonna be it.


End file.
